


Psychological Makeup of Him, Them, and Everyone Between

by My_Soul_and_Perfume



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris
Genre: #FullerFeast Fest, #JustFuckMeUp Fest, #ladiesofHannibalweek, Abusive Relationships, Angst, Between Seasons/Series, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e09 And the Woman Clothed with the Sun…, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hannibal Season 4, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hannigram - Freeform, Heartache, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Cannibalism, Improper format on DESKTOP version, M/M, Okay now there's hurt and comfort, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Photos, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Visuals and gifs!, Vulnerable Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham Has Encephalitis, Will Graham is a Cannibal, at least not yet, body worshiping in chapter 9, certainly no hurt/comfort, gifs, implied soulmates, not sure about you, shows up perfectly on my phone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2018-11-22 19:52:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11387208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Soul_and_Perfume/pseuds/My_Soul_and_Perfume
Summary: "A fountain of fireflies, I found, and so I wishedthinking I would part with my deadly desiresThat wish grew cold as stone.What I was given instead was a companionrich like silver and gold.Oh, what is he when he is young, and his eyes are light?What is he when his tongue enjoys telling tales; the crescent moon highWhat is he when his mind makes him believe he is in a dream?When he calls for Mischa and not meWhen his hands hold softly mineWhen his weakness is that he never learned how to cry"





	1. Stockholm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AGlassRoseNeverFades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGlassRoseNeverFades/gifts), [whiskeyandspite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeyandspite/gifts), [drinkbloodlikewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkbloodlikewine/gifts), [FKAHerSweetness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FKAHerSweetness/gifts), [Hannigrammatic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannigrammatic/gifts).



> “Mischa, we take comfort in knowing there is no God. That you are not enslaved in Heaven, made to kiss God’s ass forever. What you have is better than Paradise. You have blessed oblivion. I miss you every day.”  
> ― Thomas Harris, Hannibal Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Frederick Chilton: Dammit, man, you must have some advice. You caught him. What was your trick? 
> 
> Will Graham: I let him kill me.

The lamb tiptoed silently   
into his master’s waiting abode,   
twice the man he was before.

Before tomorrow, before the future was adamant   
and could be discerned through haze   
This needed to happen before Time came!   
Again.

Screams echoed throughout the corridor

The crickets were lit aflame

Master’s little lamb tackled his fear  
and crushed it into soil,  
said the words he never thought would be True

How silky the robes were,  
Shimmering, slipping through Master’s elongated fingers  
as Lamb was in denial  
of his body’s true power

The power he contained in a   
Holy grail  
Holy grail  
Holy grail

Yes, the Temptation was Great  
but Abstaining was best  
His master waited until the grail was filled-  
To the brim

And if the collars, whips, and chains,   
solid and grounding,   
were a problem,   
then his lamb would throw them out!

To wear rope instead.  
Yes, the Temptation was Great!

Screams echoed throughout the corridor

The crickets were lit aflame

Master's little lamb tackled his fear and crushed it into soil, said the words he never thought would be True

There was darkness in love

and kindness as well

so his tender care made absolute sense when little Lamb crawled into Master's bed, saying the words he never thought would be True

The Wait would bring beautiful results, they agreed.

Eventually.

The one that was pure pursed his lips, doe eyes fulfilling the moon's legacy. Lamb's brain would never align Perfectly with Master's, so he threw a wish down the well And it was that he might be granted one kiss to solidify what they were into  Passion and Grace. Not horrid chains.

His holy grail was flooded in Wine immediately and tipped over,

spilling cherry alcohol across the bed sheets. The patterns were: daggers, skulls, and thorns. Master pictured every implement Striking the little lamb, the scratches, and screams, blood and-- Pain, God, an amazing Pain that was their Destiny-- it would come to them both.

Lamb earned himself a kiss for his distressed and excited Nature. Master's heavy arousal, slick and glistening persuasively, entered the welcoming heat of his

(little Lamb!) that night.

And little Lamb dared to say the words he never thought Would Be True

They were: _ My brand from me to you _ _ is the word, Stockholm. _

 


	2. Mischa: Uprising

The starvation we shared was truly…a blessing, Mischa.  
My light, my darkness, were both derived from an all-consuming desire for self-responsibility,  
a desire to be your betrothed, for that was how much I loved you.  
My Mischa, my responsibility, my inspiration

Yet watercolors and charcoal could never form or match your beauty.   
Yet the mucus-y, brown snow could  
Yet the blood in your heart, much more powerful than that.

Yes, my Mischa,  
my darkness, my burden;  
there would be no more reciprocity or duplicity for us anymore.  
What I did was sinful, taking responsibility when it wasn’t my place.  
Loved you unfathomably.  
Cared for you;  
I thought–assumed–any decent, caring human would.

Was it greed? Mischa, I must know.  
You became  
My night and gale, which sung me to sleep  
My deity  
You have become  
all that astrology conspires with,  
whom I associate with death  
I will never be satisfied without you  
You are  
dead; a rotting corpse in my stomach.

By all means, forgive me if you please, but I will never ask.  
More of you  
Not that either.  
It will be your fault if the ashes collect somewhere out of reach.  
In fact, burn this when you receive what remains.

For my life is at peace, my home is whole, and shadows stay where they should,   
now that you are gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating tomorrow!


	3. Giving Him Value

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love.”
> 
> -Hannibal Lecter

Ash Wednesday had come early, the ravens’ dutiful rounds descended  
As a moonlit figure came like Christ’s rebirth,  
he thanked her for being impetuous.

Lactic acid, a sweet honey oat body wash,  
the lungs were smoky.  
He adorned her on a festive panache,  
extracted contrasting flavors, for his cooking.

Then a hurricane of boots passed, must she have died  
impaled by a stag’s antlers,   
and every gift of design.


	4. The Cycle of Empathy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm here for Will Graham. I borrowed his imagination, and I broke it. I don't know how he managed to piece it back together again."  
> -Jack Crawford

_Drawn by the incredible @horrible-device  
Source: Tumblr  
_ _http://horrible-device.tumblr.com/_   


 

Let bruising bloom  
darkness bloom  
memories stimulate.

Find pain through evidence  
what can be seen, what cannot be  
Is affection  
Blindness to emotions kill.

Let madness flourish  
Time bringing age  
Bruises fading  
enough to forgive.

Try denial for acceptance  
Try reciprocity for duplicity  
Sacrifice, or empty basket,  
whether starvation or fullness,  
The end of time is momentum  
a pendulum

When pain is longing  
Eyes bleeding emotion  
When you are aged  
A mural blooms.

From self-abuse.   
For your nature.  
For constricting darkness  
to let in light  
Which takes time to reach us  
which ages and kills.

It gets easier to look  
directly at the source  
To find hidden meaning  
in the cycle of empathy.


	5. Blue Morphos

 

  _Collage by no_bun_ballet, using PicsArt_

 

Two blue morphos  
sit on a page  
of fairytale,  
A collector controls  
   
The storybook  
is actually in reverse,  
as is everything in the universe  
   
That this collector controls  
   
But two morphos  
Fly freely  
Pale moonlight, reflection,  
Willow wisps in the night,  
Not at all frightened when the collector  
smashes their wings to prevent  
flight  
   
Now they are two blue morphos  
sitting on a page  
of fairytale  
When the collector releases them  
to fly, fly away


	6. Will be, Can't see, I have one Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Memory gives moments immortality, but forgetfulness promotes a healthy mind. It is good to forget."  
>  -Hannibal Lecter

Will be  
Broken, can we  
I may be sick.

Can’t see,  
this might be  
I could be grieving.  
Who broke me?

I have one body  
Can you fix  
My soul is weeping.  
Do you still want me?

Solve the mystery  
What I  _cannot_ see  
Is your specialty. 


	7. Thread

_Collage by no_bun_ballet, using PicsArt_

 

He stood at the beginning of a thread  
unfocused, hazy, yet content

It was soft in his fingers  
as he thumbed through his fears  
Shall he let this feeling linger  
or drown in his own tears?  
Pitch black, save for a soft glow caressing the thread  
It nearly slipped out of his grasp

Will you pull me back  
towards home?  
The rose and pearls you left  
are gone  
Did you want me to drop to my knees  
Count to three?  
Or should I pull my own weight  
with what you have left me?

And there he stood at the beginning of a thread  
Unfocused, hazy, yet content

He chose to walk away  
tugging the thread with him  
tried not to sway at the intensity of His gaze

Not judging, only observing  
For that is all He usually does  
The man comes, offering a single serving  
Will He take it, swallow, refuse to run?

He wanted to know

Will you pull me back  
towards home?  
The rose and pearls you left  
are gone  
Did you want me to drop to my knees  
count to three?  
Or shall I pull my own weight  
with what you have left me?

Here He stood, tugging the thread  
Here He stood connecting the ends  
He has joined Him  
Him has joined He  
They have joined each other

Will you pull me back  
towards home?  
The rose and pearls you left  
are gone  
Did you want me to drop to my knees  
count to three?  
Or shall I pull my own weight  
with what you have left me?


	8. Desperation

_Cover by no_bun_ballet, using PicsArt_

 

Your eyes turn grey  
Can you please turn away?  
I’m here suffering through the anxiety  
The passion, the desperation  
Don’t you see?

My mouth is gun  
Shooting bullets like second nature  
Your chest is a shield  
Deflecting the danger.

After the teacup shattered,  
land became ocean and ocean went bone dry

Spider-d in cracks,  
Like my mind used to be,  
I faced the difficulty of getting by,  
The ocean went bone dry.

Oh, your eyes turn grey  
Can you please turn away?  
I’m here suffering through the anxiety  
The passion, the desperation  
Don’t you see?

Once upon a dream  
I was part of your fantasy  
Dolled up, primed, and pressed  
But I saw through your lies  
Refused to scream at the sky  
Because I would rather not give you the  
Satisfaction

Oh, your eyes turn grey  
Can you please turn away?  
I’m here suffering through the anxiety  
The passion, the desperation  
Don’t you see?

 


	9. Scrabble Part 1

Let’s play Scrabble   
These are the rules:  
Diagonal lines, uncensored words  
Entirely blunt  
No metaphors   
   
Your turn:  
My wrists are pulled, tendons stretched,  
twisted until they pop right off  
They go on your hips, Sir.  
Removal   
   
My turn:  
I bite the fleshy texture   
of your lips,  
chew them up and wear them  
as my own.  
Cannibalism  
   
Your turn:  
Jasmine, cerulean blue eyes  
hold secrets of personal interest.  
You smack the back of my cranium  
They shoot out from their sockets,  
dangle from a chord of red  
   
A fresh canine mercilessly cuts them down,  
like ripened apples on a tree branch.  
Eye-gouging   
   
My turn:  
Blue blood, cold, dead  
You gurgle like a newborn baby choking,  
though life has never been so exfoliated   
of old age  
and dead skin  
   
My forehead bashes against those  
porcelain teeth,   
delicious tongue is exposed to me  
to eat.  
I take it.  
Cymothoa Exigua


	10. READ ME!

NOW TAKING PROMPTS! 

Prompts will be taken in any shape or form, no matter what they are, or how complex. I want to fill this collection up as much as possible, so please submit  ideas to me whenever you can. Just a reminder though: the prompts do not have to fit a poetry format, it can be a regular one. But when it goes in the collection  it will be in a poetry format like all the others. 

I will write ANYTHING.

THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE AND KUDOS!


	11. Scrabble Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I wrote this mooooooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnntttttttttttttttthhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhssssssssssss ago. It's not going to be as mature as the other poems.

Now we must take offense  
to the rules of the game  
for there is a limitation,  
action we cannot take  
   
And it is unsatisfying.  
   
Why should the boundaries of our relationship  
be limited to,   
not expressed by,  
Brains  
and Heart?  
   
The parts we have taken from each other  
can never be replicated,  
What a disturbing, bloody mercenary  
Has become of our love.

Oh, woe is this tragic  
Game  
Of Scrabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you.


	12. The Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's memories of Abigail post season 2, while he was still grieving.
> 
> Also, I tried to get the gifs as close to the Tumblr post as possible, so excuse me in advance for any blemishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by @CasSaunteredVaguelyDownwards

  
  
  
  
   
****~~~~

* * *

There are many holes in the earth,  
but only one holds a rose. 

Naturedly blue eyes are now closed,  
yet she lingers in the rose.

This time, we can preserve and guarantee  
that it thrives.  
The rose. 

Trees will go miles to preserve her strength.  
Bees and butterflies will pollinate every inch,  
spreading her beauty. 

Now, it is her time to come home. 

The rose told us so.

And it will linger for more than one moment,  
Two days, it still stays,  
Even longer than three evenings.

Long live what memories remain.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Tumblr: a-freak-brainstorm.tumblr.com 
> 
> Credits:
> 
> Grave gif: https://tenor.com/view/funeral-flowers-grave-gif-5518042  
> Abigail season 3: http://68.media.tumblr.com/2ac353f28563d53d7b7678064d85e7f9/tumblr_nqk6pve0Oy1tp1njco1_500.gif  
> Abigail's ear: http://imgur.com/x6ejviz  
> Hannibal and Abigail: http://media.tumblr.com/b878f16db25dd291a54c892162709281/tumblr_inline_mrsll6aWbr1rxatc4.gif  
> Alana and Abigail: https://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/degrassi/images/4/45/Alana-Bloom-Abigail-Hobbs-Scarves-and-badassery-hannibal-tv-series-34420044-245-183.gif/revision/latest?cb=20130617223217  
> Will and Abigail fishing: http://37.media.tumblr.com/648d774a5a80d760ca11d38067b4737f/tumblr_n5esttFApQ1r0bnq5o7_r1_250.gif  
> fishing zoom up: http://37.media.tumblr.com/c2d7417f60e3d09fd7d99f19685701c8/tumblr_n5esttFApQ1r0bnq5o6_r1_250.gif  
> Abigail headshot: http://37.media.tumblr.com/37d01988976ba0b0790b49989a46f03b/tumblr_n3s65b9oZp1shau5yo1_250.gif  
> Abigail scar: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/91/7a/63/917a63fd1d2fc930efb92dc764a3f464.jpg  
> Hannibal cooking for Abigail: https://media.giphy.com/media/OVagYdIYKlsCA/giphy.gif  
> Holding hands: https://media.giphy.com/media/5B42bnLfZSygo/giphy.gif  
> Alana Bloom: http://25.media.tumblr.com/94ad4c45ffa864d550013d1c0385dcbf/tumblr_mtlcn06Glm1qjmwu8o1_250.gif


	13. Dear Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @Thewaterisblood on Tumblr.

   
  
  


This overwhelming urge to revel in what is beyond me  
and pinpoint the only unlocked door in your palace  
(Behind this door, a throbbing chamber).  
Not very well guarded, as for one like me you hold on  
to dear love.  
Because galactic sound waves hum and purr, believing in dear love also;  
in the void alone, every entity ought to.

We may indulge ourselves, by simply leaving stardust behind  
Every step, it settles  
_calmly_  
like the waves.  
To us they toast, some white, foamy froth sloshing  
bluff crumbling, vanishing faster than ruined arousal,  
too intimate for boundaries between the binging and the indulgence,  
too vast for a key to its chamber, and those sad secrets,  
two halves of a heart cracked to dust, longing to be reunited.  
Senses go mad until inevitably, all I ache for  
is you  
With the last of my conscience reconstructing that urgent arousal,  
us  
as dragons in the sky; Hell far away, forgotten.  
And does this mean we aspire for The Beyond,  
for what we cannot see?

What else will we ache for, other than dear love?

(The wildest beasts, the most savage hunger  
we have been denying.)

Breath, blood, and warm flesh to hold, that is what you crave  
For that single door to _feel_ the touch of a human hand,   
(behind this door, a throbbing chamber),  
feel cobwebs unsticking, hinges groaning aloud.  
For two hands, all-seeing eyes, and equal darkness to touch the tenderness  
deeply penetrated in your heart,  
my forgiveness  
as you are sucking the love from all things  
and you are convinced that the fallout will be sustainable, nourishing.

Yet  
as we dance together, my body aches quite terribly,  
conscience ensnared between the eroding bluff   
and mortal blood leaving me  
Perceiving it--  
( _drip_ , _drip_ )  
\--as black in the moonlight.  
Your heaving chest tightening, slimy, slippery  
Now I hold onto dear love!

If we should end in Dragon's wrath, let it be glorious,  
Hannibal,  
Let me be Pawn!  
As the pianissimo trilling in my throbbing chamber  
(Beyond this chamber, a rusted lock and key)  
(That was thrown into the sea)  
sounds sick, sounds tired, ready to rest.  
Tomorrow is a darkness, you see, and nothing more.  
Tomorrow is a darkness, raging storms relentless on the world,  
for regrettably  
your forgiveness could not change my heart.

Hold on for dear love.

 

* * *

 

 

**Thank you for being so patient and supportive of me[@thewaterisblood](https://tmblr.co/mUM8TzpuyzjfZAbGH4bLmPg) **It took me a while, but I think (and hope) that everything paid off. I'd** also like to thank [@cutiepiecassiel](https://tmblr.co/mvZpJdvrBCPPR05lxV90KXw) [@purplesocrates](https://tmblr.co/mWhTReedzhKHZNSJ-Kt8Qhg) and [@cas-sauntered-vaguely-downwards](https://tmblr.co/m2Cfj9DgpequB7zJ4WDVdNA) for helping me improve the quality of this poem. I really appreciate your help guys, and hope that you will stick with me for the prompts that follow. **

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gif credits (in order):  
> https://media.giphy.com/media/AEmTUp2QyMPFC/giphy.gif  
> https://media.giphy.com/media/zYLpjEOICV8yc/giphy.gif  
> https://68.media.tumblr.com/db472e4720f8c6ccfeb5ac170c40e0d8/tumblr_n4m1ytZFEA1rvs9wso1_500.gif  
> https://nypdecider.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/hannibal-ep2-27-06.gif  
> http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J9OBV-MDIKo/Vee6o8pCcII/AAAAAAAAacE/mzhTqAPzbsI/s1600/3.13j.gif  
> https://68.media.tumblr.com/83931420801a16b63dacd9c723cf6491/tumblr_inline_on7gmlX8uh1sk1xma_500.gif  
> http://33.media.tumblr.com/d89cf77f61c8f6b05fd4e3a6ef81bb6f/tumblr_ntsu6y5YCs1s27ctto8_500.gif
> 
> Gif movie:   
> (Lyrics in this movie taken from "Lullabies" by Yuna.  
> THOUGH YOU WEREN'T MINE: http://i0.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/001/093/301/bf6.gif  
> HEART GIF: https://media.giphy.com/media/K3B9usOy3GGpG/giphy.gif   
> YOU WERE MY FIRST LOVE: http://68.media.tumblr.com/3f79202019bffbc0424ada03a50a2f65/tumblr_nszehiA9US1uzc5r3o4_500.gif  
> PLEASE TAKE ME AWAY FROM HER


	14. Loving from A Distance

The color blue, not just a hue  
The sky, it’s pink and purple too  
Oh, who knew that the color blue  
would be so much more than just a hue?

The color red blooms, a lingering perfume 

The flavor of love, (with her it was so crude)  
Oh, who knew that my doom  
would come from this hue?

My stomach flew, as wind blew   
Though my head would not follow too—  
My heart grew and grew!

Oh, who knew that I could cry tears  
the color blue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not a prompt, but an exploration of Hannibal’s emotions about Will Graham. I think Hannibal couldn’t quite be intimate with Will, but the codependency bond he formed between them was just as symbolic. Although Hannibal pursued a relationship with Alana in season 2, it was definitely one-sided, and I think that highlights the theme here, of love lost. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this! Stay tuned for the new poem!


	15. Mind, Body, and Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prologue poem from "Afterlife," my Hannibal season 4 fanfiction!
> 
> Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154915/chapters/32624613

He unsheathed his sword, bared it to me,  
and I fell into my reflection.  
Maybe he needed to know that I could kiss an unflinching shadow,  
Forgive and reminisce, forget and treasure our shared pasts;  
know that I could accept my true nature,  
mind, body, and soul; know that I could accept  
his mind, body, and soul. 

As we danced, he grieved, crying, “My maestro, he mourns for death,  
he will leave me for The Enemy!”  
Little did he know, I chose Him  
His monster: so metaphysical and inhuman;  
so corrupt I would suffer silently, suffer deeply in his demise  
to preserve its beauty  
He knew this, but he ignored it.

And then I knew. 

“Hannibal,”

It was not me who had succumbed to The Enemy.

“I see.”

Those silvery tears, unshed in agony, were not seeing Heaven

“I _see_.”

They were seeing Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr <3: a-freak-brainstorm.tumblr.com


	16. Of Blossoms, Lakes, and Fireflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poem from "Afterlife," my Hannibal season 4 fanfiction!
> 
> Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154915/chapters/32624613

_"_ _I will tell you of the angel whom I loved,_  
_of her glassy brown eyes like filth on her snowy skin_  
_that were a technicolor dream in my adolescent mind:_  
_Tell you of the castle from where we leisured,_  
_of its grey bricks like the color of dolor_  
_that consumed innocence, and left saints pining:_  
_Tell you of her slight frame and inborn wit,_  
_of dusky Summer blossoms like the color of her smile_  
_that were a symbol of her radiance and beginning of my devotion._

 _We were dashing through rivers and outrunning woodpeckers,_  
_and thundering through the woods, feeling weightless_  
_To such destination where Lecter Castle met a mirror,_  
_just high enough for our fingers to trace its reflection._  
_A bag of sweets in one pocket, two sharp sticks in the other_  
_I ensured our claim of this spot, and as a vow to Mischa,_  
_excitedly kissed her forehead with all my might._  
_“Oh, deity of nature who watches o’er the land_  
_The far mountains and low shrubs_  
_The common horse and the wild daisy_  
_The cool lake and the creatures underground_  
_I claim the land, here, for my beloved sister_  
_and pray that winters ‘naught be dry,_  
_nor the spring dull and dead and silent_  
_And I pray for bountiful seasons_  
_of satisfaction on which we stand,_  
_on the acres of beauty we feast on each day_  
_And an everlasting peace”_

 _I kissed her forehead again_  
_And my lips went insane from it, her taste so sweet._  
_The world could throw chaos in our faces_  
_Yet the woods would be stronger still:_  
_the ultimate protection against toxins and poisons_  
_left over from man's cruel hand_  
_Living for beauty, an indulgence to share._  
_And lest my cheeks went rosy, or my shoulders slumped_  
_or my legs started to shake, or my eyes threatened to water,_  
_puffy eyed and stuttering like some pansy :_  
_I'd prove to be a boy—_  
_not a man, like father, who could protect her._  
_My beloved Mischa...._

 _The drowsy sunrise became inflamed sunset by five_  
_Waves lapped the crooked dock and sand, teasing us toward the trail_  
_There was an insidious silence: not a bird, not a wolf, not a fox_  
_No smoke burning in the air that evening_  
_The lone star in the sky misplaced in a clutter of others_  
_Weary, drooping daisies soaking in mud_  
_Our senseless footprints running amok the terrain._  
_My Mischa, I said, and my doe eyes were unshed with tears_  
_Let’s go home.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr <3: a-freak-brainstorm.tumblr.com


	17. Teacups, Time, and the Rules of Disorder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poem from "Afterlife," my Hannibal season 4 fanfiction!
> 
> Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154915/chapters/32624613

“ _What seemed like a century delving toward the abyss_  
_felt like gravity accelerating our fall_  
_Nothing but light and air and color_  
_Nothing but your arms holding me one last time_  
_before we lost our bodies to the Atlantic._  
_Time:_  
_forever immortal, though a spec of a shard in our hearts,_  
_crashed down on us like the waves,_  
_who, like us, had not lost its passionate colors_  
_Had not become bone dry ashes,_  
_or ashes scattering away to the four winds_  
_Disorder:_  
_A cracked leather spine hanging onto youth by a thread_  
_Stretching, stretching, stretching into a content smile._  
_The moon and sun, pulled towards each other's radiance_  
_—Blood. Lust—_  
_An eternal eclipse inflicting justice on mankind for eternity!_  
_Oh, you were so beautiful, Will:_  
_Not the blood of my palm. But the color of romance on the horizon_  
_Not clenching hand. But supple tongue and lips conjoining us_  
_Not the moment you ate my heart, but when you savored it._  
_It was beautiful—until it wasn’t._  
_It wasn’t the moment we hit the ocean. But the ghost of your fingers fading away_  
_It wasn’t my tight throat choking on a final, dying breath_  
_It was_  
_The moment I realized that I fell alone_  
_It was_  
_You staring at my death with cold indifference  
_ _as you watched me shatter into pieces.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr <3: a-freak-brainstorm.tumblr.com


	18. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude from "Afterlife," my Hannibal season 4 fanfiction!
> 
> Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154915/chapters/32624613

_Blood broth: delightful to see again its rich color,_  
_as is the copper pan’s brilliant shine_  
_The burner’s lavender-blue flame._  
_Seeds are missing from the pomegranate,_  
_spilled on cold mahogany_  
_The knife butchers, like so_  
_My heart, in this moment, has a mind of its own._  
_But what am I feeling? What should I be feeling?_  
_Pity for myself, or depression because I pity myself?_  
_Or is it the life in my belly I am missing?_  
_Terse hands bruise delicate herbs_  
_Sweet cherry wine becomes warm in the bottle_  
_The feast is life_  
_I put the life in my belly and I live  
_ _Or, is the life divided among us, and we consume each other’s?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr <3: a-freak-brainstorm.tumblr.com


	19. Lovely Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poem from "Afterlife," my Hannibal season 4 fanfiction!
> 
> Read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154915/chapters/32624613

" _I will tell you of the man whom I love,  
of his charming wit like the natural gleam of stars  
that has become my tether between reality and fantasy  
Tell you of the iridescence and timelessness we share,  
of his temperament like the ferocity of a piano  
that strikes chords in my soul, branding me as his  
__Tell you of the palace from where we leisure  
__of its twisting body like the roiling Atlantic  
__that has no edge, nor hole in its infinite domination_.

 _Lovely sorrow, you are the ink that spells my name_  
_Pause and breath in one fluid motion, you define me_  
_You etch little cracks that others can never erase  
_ _Oh, under your strings I am your marionette._

 _Unlocking the gate to your inner machinations_  
_the schemes I expected were nowhere to be found_  
_Though I knew it wasn’t it vain_  
_A fountain and fireflies standing still in time._  
_Dazzling stars standing still in time, I found._  
_Opened my heart to them, I did, and what did it do?_  
_Showed me all the times monsters beat you, hit you_  
_Who knew?_  
_Then I saw the man with the hour,_  
_heard his words defined by seconds, knowing of my dreams_  
_He sounded like you, lovely sorrow, but not quite dead._  
_T’was the same man I’d run from that I was seeking_  
_The one I held remorse with—yes, remorse because I caused him pain  
_ _My words poison; my wrath just beginning_

_A fountain of fireflies, I found, and so I wished_  
_thinking I would part with my deadly desires_  
_That wish grew cold as stone._  
_What I was given instead was a companion_  
_rich like silver and gold._  
_Oh, what is he when he is young, and his eyes are light?_  
_What is he when his tongue enjoys telling tales; the crescent moon high_  
_What is he when his mind makes him believe he is in a dream?_  
_When he calls for Mischa and not me_  
_When his hands hold softly mine  
_ _When his weakness is that he never learned how to cry_

 _Now I know the lullaby that lulls him to sleep_  
_I will acknowledge every piece of him_  
_I will love every piece of him_  
_I will savor every piece of him_  
_He saved me and he showed me what it means to live_  
_To love_  
_To laugh_  
_Now, lovely sorrow, I believe it is time for you to reciprocate_  
_For we will advance to the next step_  
_Give in_  
_Give me your mind, body, and soul_  
_Because you will never be in pain again  
_ _Forevermore.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr <3: a-freak-brainstorm.tumblr.com


	20. The Point of No Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Fannibal Appreciation Day on Tumblr! Go check it out on my account--same username, but with dashes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write something for this picture for a looooooooooooooooooooooonnnnng time.

  
_Drawn by @camilleflyingrotten on Tumblr_

To die   
So divine   
To conquer the latter which I climb   
So divine   
To die   
To have your heart that tastes like wine   
They call us   
The angels   
Wings spanning for miles   
So divine   
The angels   
Luscious skin and cherubic eyes   
God   
He calls us   
He holds us while we cry   
Your faith,   
He says,   
Will forever be mine   
Ah, To die   
So divine   
To conquer the latter which I climb   
So divine   
To die   
To have your heart that tastes like wine   
The Heavens   
It shines   
A mystique about it reflected in your eyes   
It shines   
The Heavens   
Wanting to save all from an ugly demise   
But I   
Am Cursed   
Something which time cannot reverse   
Screams taint   
My dreams   
An empty glass full of screams   
Oh, To die   
So divine   
To conquer the latter which I climb   
So divine   
To die   
To have your heart that tastes like wine   
A crime   
My master   
You are a rose in its prime   
My master   
Tis a crime   
Now, in chains you are mine 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I asked permission to post this art from the artist, so if you want to repost this anywhere, please please PLEASE ask @camilleflyingrotten on Tumblr first! Thanks!
> 
> What do you guys think? Show some love and leave a comment/kudo?


	21. The Ghost of Francis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Would you be interested in writing something focused on Reba and her feelings on Francis after his final confirmed death?
> 
> Why yes. Yes I would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The images don't come out the same as on my tumblr. If you'd like to see the better version, go here: https://my-soul-and-perfume.tumblr.com/post/175872042445/the-ghost-of-francis-when-you-look-into-my-eyes

**** ~~~~

**** ~~~~

When you look into my eyes   
and say nightmares are written in the stars,   
well the window is ajar   
and my dreams can take me far.

I’m gonna soak in the sun   
and let your touches come undone:   
gonna see the silver lining and cock this gun.

Just look at all the land I haven’t strolled,   
the stories my beaten soul was never told,   
and this universe as grand as gold!

I can hear windchimes whistle in the breeze,   
as my cheek bears a slap with ease.   
But to touch is to soothe,   
not leave behind black and blue;   
then again, you never promised to be true.

Morals are just morals and promises die.   
It’s the punishments which lie   
thick and really make you sick,   
turning the word love into a trick.

If that’s the case, then my reckoning’s not far   
because the window is still ajar   
and I vow my dreams will take me far.

So prepare yourself because I will cock this gun.   
I will make your touches come undone,   
even if it seems that I’m closer to the sun,   
and there are still multiple rounds to be won.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, how was it???


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